Hexagon
by Akukama
Summary: Six friends are just finishing up watching the movie, when... the last scene goes terribly wrong, and they are flung into the film. Mayhem ensues. Did I mention that one of them is a werewolf? My first fanfiction. I can't write summaries.
1. Monkeyshines

Hello, all. Not sure where to put this author's note thing, seeing as this is my first fanfiction. So, yeah… It's a bit confusing, I know, but it will make more sense. I've written down all 89 pages of it, and I've typed three chapters, so more is on the way. I will give you all my rum if you review (not that I wanted it, anyway.)

Disclaimer: PotC owns me. Not the other way around.

The names scrolling down the television screen provided the only lighting in the dark room. Six friends had just finished watching "Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl" for the tenth time in two months. On one of the room's two couches, a pair of teenage girls did what appeared to be an unusual interpretive dance to the soundtrack that accompanied the credits.

Haley, the shorter of the two, had rather bouncy shoulder-length black hair that turned up at the end, wide emerald eyes, unlimited energy, and a voice that made her sound, even at fifteen, like a stubborn eight-year-old. "I. Am. In love with Orli! He. Is. Majorly hot!" she sang to the music. Her friend winced. Haley was not exactly Broadway material.

Emma wasn't the smartest of the six, but she made up for it by being, according to people who didn't know her very well, absolutely perfect in every way. And, in fact, it was partially true. Tall with a head of long, thick, wavy , auburn hair, she had a model-like beauty to her that fit with her daring and friendly nature to make her one of the most popular girls in school. It didn't hurt that she was the best at every sport she tried. So far, the list included volleyball, softball, basketball, tennis, surfing, and swimming. Emma also had a voice that could sweep up any audience. Her close friends and family knew all this, and they weren't any less impressed by her than anyone else, but they'd also seen her wild temper, complete ineptitude in everything she'd chosen not to try, tendency to form and hold grudges, and recklessness. It was also hard to be in awe of somebody who you'd seen eat worms in second grade.

She grabbed Haley by the double-pierced ear, and glared at her until she stopped her fangirl-ish song. "Heh…" the dark-haired girl mumbled, then brightened. "I have an absolutely brilliant idea!" she announced, loudly. Everyone looked at her apprehensively. Haley's ideas often involved makeovers, shopping, or soccer. "Ice cream!" she squealed, not even noticing the awkward silence. Haley's obliviousness was the stuff of legends. The other five sighed in relief. They were safe from being guinea pigs for their friend's glitter lip gloss, if only for a few hours. Without waiting for a further response, Haley scampered off to the kitchen, followed by Emma.

Meanwhile, still on the other, larger couch, three teenagers were discussing the movie. The fourth person, a teenage boy, had his face completely covered by a history textbook, and was trying very hard to pretend the movie and viewers did not exist. Jordan Potter was Haley's twin brother, but nobody would ever have guessed it. Though she was fourteen minutes older, he was at least three inches taller, and his voice was incredibly low. Even the rough black hair they shared looked neater and shinier on Haley, and their light olive skin tone looked better with her freckles. Jordan had dark brown eyes reminiscent of beetles, covered by contacts for his poor vision. The twins differed even more in personality. Jordan was quiet, cynical, and rather grounded in the real world. He craved order and simplicity, and sucked up knowledge like a vacuum cleaner. Though they were both smart, Jordan was the one who actually showed it in school. He resented people less intelligent than him, which was basically everyone, and loved the Beatles. He had liked the "Pirates" movie the first time he'd seen it, since they got the historical details mostly right, but he'd quickly lost interest. At this point, it was unlikely he even remembered more than the names of the main characters. When he noticed the other three had no intention of stopping their chatter, he got up and walked down the stairs into the basement, his almond-shaped eyes never leaving the pages of his textbook.

"Does he own anything that isn't black?" wondered the only girl left in the room, noting the color of Jordan's outfit. She didn't say it in a mean way; she was merely curious.

"Actually," answered the abnormally tall boy sitting next to her, "I think I've seen him wear navy blue a few times." The dark-skinned boy on his other side mimed fainting in surprise. "Elizabeth does that better," commented the other boy, getting back to the movie, "Speaking of which, did anyone notice there's a full moon every night in that movie?" He cringed after he said it.

"Glad you weren't in it?" asked the girl, understanding. Ted nodded. He was extremely tall for his age, and relatively worn-looking. His skin was only the tiniest bit lighter than the strands of light brown hair falling across his forehead. The latest model of digital camera hung around his neck, and his watery blue eyes gleamed, laughing and crying at the same time. Ted was a werewolf, bitten two years ago when he had jumped in front of Haley to protect her from what had seemed at the time to be a rabid wolf. Only his friends and their families knew about his monthly transformations. Although he could take a potion to keep his mind partially human, the change was incredibly painful. While human, Ted was observant and kind, with a knack for learning things to do with history and science. No matter what happened, Ted was the perpetual optimist. He was an amazing photographer, and a friend to anyone unless they hurt those he cared about. Particularly the fragile girl next to him…

Ivy Vernon looked up at her best friend, a rare smile on her lips. Her pale, almost translucent skin took on a milky color in the dim light. The grey-eyed girl was clever and creative, but quiet, sensitive, and terribly shy. From the time she'd met the others, in seventh grade, Ted had been her friend and protector. She'd come with a horrifying past, a mother gone missing, a rich, perfect father revealed to be a twisted murderer, an abusive, drug dealing older brother as a caretaker, that had turned her into a timid creature who only felt comfortable around animals, and who could only express her feelings through drawing and poetry. At first, Emma and Haley had despised her, their parents almost victims of Ivy's cold-blooded father, but now they were good friends. Ted and Ivy, however, retained a special bond.

Around that time, the credits stopped rolling. The last boy, handsome and dark-skinned, with exotic features, reached for the remote, pausing the movie. "Emma! Haley! Jordan! You're going to miss the monkey scene!" Glancing over at Ivy and Ted, he stood up, and walked around to the back of the couch. Ivy had sunk into the depths of the couch, and was leaning against Ted, and Ted was sitting forward thoughtfully. Neither of them appeared to notice this.

Tyrone was loud, obnoxious, egotistical, cocky, and generally well-liked by everyone, whether they admit it or not. He was champion of the school fencing team, and enjoyed bothering teachers and trying to impress Emma. 'Trying' being the operative word. He'd joined their little group after moving to Virginia in sixth grade and befriending Ted. Tyrone looked suspiciously like he belonged on the cover of a magazine, with a mixture of his African-American and Indian parents' features. His short, black hair was a field of tight curls, and fencing gave him a healthy set of muscles. At least half of the girls in school believed themselves in love with him, a fact which only served to help inflate his already colossal ego.

"Monkey scene!" peeped Haley, running out of the kitchen so quickly, she might as well have teleported. From the prominent chocolate smudges on her hands and mouth, the rest of them doubted they'd be getting the promised ice cream. Emma was only a few beats behind her.

"Begun by blood, by blood undone," quoted the redhead, continuing a debate she and Haley had been having in the kitchen. Her Barbossa imitation was unconvincing. It was Ivy who had the gift of voices. As she said the words, the television screen glowed bright white, then returned to normal. The friends chalked it off as a malfunctioning TV. Tyrone restarted the movie, winking at Emma, who rolled her eyes. Emma and Haley flopped down on the floor in front of the TV.

The silence from the room as all five of them watched Jack the monkey swim up to the chest and steal a cursed medallion, was enough to convince Jordan that everyone was gone. Trudging up the stairs, he sighed when he saw them, but sat down on the vacant back couch anyway, now reading a TIME magazine.

When the skeletal monkey jumped at the screen, however, something strange happened. The TV screen actually shattered, leaving a huge vortex behind. Ted, Emma, and Haley were pulled into the gaping hole. "No," whispered Ivy, trying to grab Ted's feet. Her hands closed on empty air, and she was caught by the current herself. Jordan and Tyrone ran to help her, but were dragged in themselves. Each of them felt a hard impact, like a blow to the side of their heads, and then… nothing.

There, it is! Chapter one! Review, review, review. It is my first fic, so please don't kill me, but I really don't care if I get critique. Critique is good. It helps you improve.

Yep, so… Snap to! Clicky the button! You know how this works!


	2. Of Rum and Boredom

**Hello, again. It is I, the Aku. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own PotC. Lawyers, ye be warned. **

**All I own are Ted, Tyrone, Emma, Haley, Jordan, and Ivy. And not even them, since they belong to my best friend too. waves at Schmergo**

When Ted woke up, he couldn't see anything. All he knew was that something to his left smelled positively awful. A sound behind him startled him, and he spun around, a growl escaping his throat. He blinked, clearing his eyes. His wolf instincts were unusually strong, which normally only happened the day of a full moon. It wasn't supposed to be full for another week and a half. Suddenly, he sat up, noticing the source of the almost unbearable stench. A man in a chair, asleep. An extremely familiar drunk man. He looked to his other side. A donkey powering the gears of a machine. Racks of swords and tools everywhere. Oh, dear… Ted rose to his feet.

"You're awake, then?" asked Will Turner, walking into his smithy. Instead of running and screaming, or banging his head into a wall to try and figure out what was wrong with him, Ted just nodded, slowly. He knew exactly where he was, and accepted it. It was surprisingly easy to believe he'd fallen into the film, but, then again, he reasoned, two years ago, he hadn't believed in werewolves.

"What happened?" he asked, his mind racing to think of an explanation in case Will asked him the same question.

"I found you unconscious in front of the shop," Will told him. Ted stopped paying attention, and looked down anxiously to make sure that his camera and modern clothing weren't a clue that he was out of the ordinary. To his surprise, he discovered he was wearing ordinary men's clothing for the 1700s, nearly identical to Will's.

"What?" he sputtered, realizing Will had asked him something.

"I asked if you had a name?" the blacksmith repeated with a smile, speaking to Ted as though he were a very young child. The fact that Ted was at least an inch taller than him made no difference.

"Ted… Ted Lupin." He realized a beat later that Lupin might not be the most common name for this time period. He continued, "I… I'm a cabin boy for the… Painted Shilling. We had a shipment of… muskets. That's all I remember," he finished, rather lamely in his opinion, but Will bought it. He seemed to have attributed Ted's hesitance to the confusion of waking up in an unfamiliar place. Thank goodness for Ivy taking me sailing so much, Ted thought, relief filling his mind. Then… Ivy! She'd been watching the movie with him when the TV exploded. Where was she now? He took a step forward, intending to look for her, but he nearly fell over. It was around then he noticed that his head hurt tremendously.

"You must have hit your head dreadfully hard. Don't try to get up just yet," Will warned, "You'd best sleep for a while. I'll try to find where your ship went, and get you something to eat. You can use my bed. It's through that door. Stay here." He was gone before Ted could present an argument. He stumbled through the door Will had pointed out, and collapsed before he even noticed how exhausted he was.

Dark. Smelly. Loud. Emma's eyes flew open. She was wearing a highly uncomfortable and low-cut lilac dress, and lying in a shadowy corner of a grimy, disgusting alley. Two drunken men with more dirt than skin were gleefully beating each other to a pulp. Emma pulled herself to her feet, refusing to consider the puddle she plunged her hand into. She stomped down the street in infuriating high heels, trying to figure out where on Earth she was. Judging by what she saw surrounding her, she had a pretty good idea. That didn't mean she had to accept it. "I am not in bloody Tortuga," she muttered, trying to convince herself of it.

She was nearly succeeding, until she spotted someone very familiar standing outside the Faithful Bride tavern, surrounded by a gaggle off women of questionable occupation. He looked more than a bit overwhelmed. Emma gathered together all of the righteous anger she could.

"TYRONE THOMAS!"

The gaggle scattered. Tyrone looked truly frightened for a moment, but the look was soon replaced by an obnoxiously dazzling smile.

"Jealous?" he asked Emma, sauntering forward.

She slugged him.

An hour and one black eye later, Tyrone woke on a relatively deserted scrap of beach, Emma hovering over him like a mother bird. The instant she saw his eyes open, the concerned expression left her face. Tyrone noted she was holding a wooden plate of… with some difficulty, he stopped his mind from going in that direction.

"Where are we?" he asked, wincing and reaching up to feel his swollen eye.

"You fainted," Emma told him, scathingly, sounding for all the world as though she'd had nothing to do with his fainting, "so I had to carry you out here, go back, get food, and come BACK…" She trailed off. "Okay, eat this. No, don't ask what it is. You don't want to know. I think it's some kind of meat." Tyrone grimaced, but forced himself to chew a mouthful of the slimy mess. Chew. Swallow. Chew. Swallow. It tasted a bit like pork actually. Rotting, pre-digested pork. Chew. Swallow.

"And I have this," Emma added, holding up a mug of something. "They had water, but it had things swimming in it." By 'things', she meant dead rats. "This rum looked cleaner, at least." She handed it to him. Tyrone took a hesitant sip, willing himself not to gag. He was surprised. It was warm, brown, and oddly bitter, but not intolerable. It helped his parched throat, and it was better than the meat, which he was beginning to suspect was pure vomit.

"Now, what?" he asked Emma, gesturing in the general direction of Tortuga. The swelling in his eye was beginning to die down.

"Now," the redhead answered, with little patience for him, "we go look for everyone else. If we're here, they should be too. And we find out what movie we're in." Tyrone wouldn't be much help in that last respect, since he hadn't seen Dead Man's Chest. Emma helped him to his feet. "Oh, you had this with you." The girl held out a long, thin sword that was as close to a foil as a sword could get while still being dangerous. Emma appeared to be contemplating whether to trust Tyrone with such an important and sharp object. He snatched it away before she could decide otherwise, and for a moment anger flashed in her gold-flecked eyes.

"I'm captain of the fencing team, remember?" he said quickly, not wanting to incur the wrath of Emma. They stood there, looking at each other, deaf to the noises of Tortuga. The moment dissolved into awkwardness.

"Emma, aren't you the tiniest bit worried about being an unarmed woman in Tortuga?" Tyrone asked, trying to sound like he wasn't actually worried. Her only reply was to set off toward the streets.

"Did you know it's possible to take bravery to the point of insanity?" the dark-skinned boy called after her as he ran to catch up.

Jordan stared at the scene for at least thirty seconds before drawing any conclusions. He recognized it, of course. His sister had drooled over the movie too many times for him not to know a scene from it when he saw it. Observations trickled into Jordan's mind, and he looked at each one of them as rationally as he could. It was some sort of military ceremony, most likely a promotion. He'd guess the time was around the 1750s. He recognized Commodore Norrington and Elizabeth, but nobody else. Jordan remembered very clearly the television breaking, and the events that followed, and unless he was hallucinating or dreaming, he was now a part of the movie. He never dreamed this vividly, and nothing had happened to him to cause hallucinations, so that left only one conclusion. A conclusion that made no sense.

"Oi! You there! Get up! What are you doing?" one of the redcoats shouted at him. "You're supposed t'be guarding the Cap- er, the Commodore's promotion from the back." Jordan glanced down. He was dressed like one of the officers. He looked, uneasily, at the musket beside him on the ground.

"Yessir," he answered, trying to sound like he knew what he was doing. The man who had yelled at him was already getting on his nerves. Some people just had no brains.

The promotion ceremony had looked dull on the screen, but it was far worse in real life. Even Jordan, who routinely read essays of trigonometry for fun, was in danger of glazing over. Every once in a while, he'd open his eyes and glance around for anyone trying to sneak in the back. No matter how stupid his task might seem, Jordan was never one to shirk his duties. As if anyone cared about this stupid occasion, he thought scornfully, then reconsidered. Didn't Jack Sparrow come in that way? Or was he even there at all? Maybe he came the next day…

For once, he really wanted Haley there.

**Yeah! Chapter two is here. Right, same as before. Critique is good. If you review, I'll consider not selling your soul to Davy Jones. Yep.**


	3. The Dread Pirate Baggins

**And… chapter three is here! Yay! This is the part where I introduce Fiction Syndrome. FS is something I think would happen to some people if they were really dropped into a movie or book. Basically, at some unconscious level, your brain figures that none of this is really happening, so you can do whatever you want. Thus, whatever would prevent you from doing whatever you want is rendered obsolete. It makes you a lot less shy, and you don't even notice. It can, however, be undone if you experience something traumatic enough to jolt you back into reality. So, Ivy is currently a very OOC time bomb… Fun, eh?**

**Schmergo- Feel free to scream at me if I mess up the characters. **

**Disclaimer: No, I don't own PotC. If I did, I would be writing another movie instead of this fanfiction. Savvy?**

"Let me get this straight, love," commented Captain Jack Sparrow, "you're from the colonies in America, and you and your family were on your way to Kingston, when the ship sank?" There was a nod. "And the reason ye know me name is that you're psychic?" Another nod. Jack raised an eyebrow. "What sank your ship? There've been no storms lately?"

Ivy glanced down at the ship, or what was left above the water. It seemed rather contradictory of him to be asking, when the Jolly Mon was suffering the same fate, but she didn't mention it. Scenes from the second film jumped into her head. "Kraken," she said simply, then added, with what she hoped was the proper amount of stunned grief, "I don't know if anyone else survived. I'm not even sure how I did, really." He seemed to accept this. Ivy supposed he would, seeing as he knew the beast existed.

For the past thirty minutes or so, Ivy had been concocting a plausible explanation for why she was found floating unconscious in the water, with her ice-blonde hair in a braid down her back, and in typical pirate clothing. Evidently, her shyness didn't apply to fictional people. Perched on top of the mast, Ivy tried to gather some information.

"What year is it, again?" she asked casually. Jack looked at her like she was trying to convince him she was a dead fish. "I want to make sure my mind's alright after the wreck," she added, quickly.

This made enough sense to him that he answered, "1758." There was a pause. "Brain in working order?"

Ivy nodded, then remembered that she was living a movie. _Anything but_, she amended. There was a period of silence as the remains of the boat drifted closer to the dock. Sailors from another ship stopped to stare at them.

"Prove you're psychic," ordered Jack, suddenly. Ivy fixed him with what she was already beginning to think of as the 'dead fish' look. It had no discernable effect on the pirate, whatsoever. "Prove it. Read my mind or predict something." They were within a few yards of the dock. Ivy panicked, before realizing that she'd seen the movie, and could actually pass herself off as being clairvoyant.

"Alright… when we get there," she gestured toward the dock, "the harbormaster will harbormaster will say, 'What? Hey! Hold up there, you! It's a shilling to tie your boat at the dock, and I shall need to know your name." Jack gave her another dead fish look, and they stepped neatly off the mast and onto the dock. Ivy was glad that her added weight hadn't thrown it off.

"What? Hey! Hold up, you!" exclaimed the harbormaster, when he noticed they'd gone past him. Jack and Ivy stopped. "It's a shilling to tie your boat at the dock," he began, as expected. All three of them looked back at the Jolly Mon. "and I shall need to know your name." Jack gaped at Ivy, who grinned. The pirate dug around in the pockets of his coat, producing three silver coins.

"What do you say to three shillings and we forget the name?" The harbormaster peered at them over his glasses, and the boy who tagged along beside him's eyebrows shot up. The man took the bribe, proving that he was a prime example of who not to hire as a dockmaster.

"Welcome to Port Royal, Mr. Smith, Miss Smith." Ivy hadn't realized he knew she was there until that moment.

"That's interesting," remarked Jack as he pocketed the harbormaster's purse, shaking it. By the sound, it contained more than three shillings. "See anything else useful in the future?"

"Only that it's in my best interest to stay with you for the time being."

Jack looked like he'd swallowed something terrible. "Look, love, I can't have a girl following me around an' getting in the way of things."

"Your funeral," she replied, quoting something he hadn't said yet. How did that work, anyway?

"Why do I want ye to stay with me then?" he asked, sighing impatiently.

"Isn't it useful to have a psychic with you? Particularly if you run into Captain Barbossa or Davy Jones?" she asked sweetly, playing her ace. Jack gulped. "I can also sail rather well. I doubt you can get one of these ships out of the bay on your own."

"And how do ye know that's what I'm here to do?"

"Read your mind," chirped Ivy, as if it were obvious. She noticed was speaking with a British accent, without even trying. The grey-eyed girl blamed it on whatever strange force it was that sent her here. The pirate sighed in defeat, and Ivy smiled, trotting along behind him like a puppy.

Jack and Ivy strode by two relaxing naval officers, walking toward the Interceptor. Murtogg and Mullroy noticed them, jumped up, and slid in front of them.

"This dock is off limits to civilians," stated Murtogg, proud of himself for saying something that sounded important.

"I'm terribly sorry. I didn't know. If I see one, I will inform you immediately," answered Jack, trying once more to slide past the guards. He was stopped in his tracks. Changing tactics, Jack started, "Apparently, there's some high-toned and fancy to-do up at the fort, eh?"

"How could it be that two upstanding gentlemen such as yourselves did not merit an invitation?" finished Ivy. And that, she could tell Ted when she saw him, was an excellent reason to memorize movie lines. Ted… Ivy looked around, half-expecting him to pop out of the water, or appear behind her in a puff of smoke.

"Someone has to make sure this dock stays off limits to civilians," Murtogg said, rather self-righteously. Ivy was snapped back to reality, or whatever this strange movie-world was.

"It's a fine goal, to be sure, but it seems to me that a ship like that," Jack told them, moving to point out the Dauntless, "makes this one here a bit superfluous, really."

Ivy, who'd been snickering under her breath, as Murtogg and Mullroy scrambled to stay between Jack and the Interceptor, gasped, looking up at the Dauntless. In the movie, Ivy had liked her, and been impressed, but here, she was breathtaking. She was everything a flagship of the Royal Navy should be, imposing, grand, colorful. The girl's fingers itched for a pencil and paper, to capture the sight in lead. She felt insignificant, a crumb, compared to the majestic vessel.

"Oh, the Dauntless is the power in these waters, true enough, but there's no ship as can match the Interceptor for speed. " Ivy looked over at the Interceptor. There were some things that practically screamed to be drawn, that appealed to something in her. This was not one of them. She was a nice ship, but she didn't have whatever it was the Dauntless had; she felt no urge to sketch the smaller craft.

"I've heard of one," Jack cut into her thoughts, "supposed to be very fast, nigh uncatchable." He paused for dramatic effect. "The Black Pearl." Ivy's heartbeat quite literally sped up a bit. The Pearl! If she stayed in this adventure, she'd get to see the Pearl. That was motivation enough for her. Ivy had loved the ocean her whole life, and when she was ten, she'd discovered sailing. After that, every weekend she could get away, she'd rent a small boat, and let her thoughts scatter with the seagulls in the serenity of the waves. Once she got away from home, she'd taken her friends with her on larger boats. When she saw "Pirates of the Caribbean" for the first time, she was enchanted by the Black Pearl, the ghostly ship with its ripped and tattered black sails that still caught the wind, the fastest in the Caribbean… and now she'd get to see it! Ivy went back to paying attention to the conversation. She'd missed a line or two.

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is. I've seen it."

"You've seen it?"

"Yes."

"You haven't seen it."

"Yes, I have." Murtogg and Mullroy bickered like little children. Ivy decided to steal Emma's favorite line in the movie.

"You've seen a ship with black sails, that's crewed by the damned and captained by a man so evil that Hell itself spat him back out?" she asked, imitating Mullroy's voice perfectly. Murtogg didn't seem to realize that his companion hadn't said it.

"No," confessed Murtogg.

"No," Mullroy verified.

"But, I have seen a ship with black sails." Jack and Ivy took this opportunity to sneak onto the Interceptor. While Jack amused himself by pretending to steer, Ivy turned to listen to the rest of the conversation.

"Oh, and no ship that's not crewed by the damned and captained by a man so evil that Hell itself spat him back out could possibly have black sails, and therefore couldn't possibly be any other ship than the Black Pearl. Is that what you're saying?"

Murtogg nodded. "No," he said. He appeared to have thoroughly confused himself.

"Like I said," Mullroy gloated, turning back to where Jack and Ivy were supposed to be, "there's no real ship as can match the Interceptor." It took him a moment to notice his audience was no longer there. He turned, seeing them on the ship.

"Hey! You! Get away from there!" shouted Murtogg. The two soldiers ran over to the helm.

"You don't have permission to be aboard there, mates!" Ivy found this all a lot less humorous now that she had a gun in her face.

"I'm sorry. It's just- it's such a pretty boat," Jack explained.

"Ship," corrected Ivy. The pirate nodded.

"Ship."

"What's your name?"

"Smith," responded Jack, nonchalantly, "Smithy, if you like."

Murtogg and Mullroy turned to Ivy. "And yours?"

"Uh… Bilbo Baggins?" she offered, using the first name to pop into her head. She and the others were still reeling from Tyrone's "Lord of the Rings" kick.

"What's your purpose in Port Royal, Mr. Smith, Miss Baggins?" inquired Mullroy. Had she not had dangerous weapons pointed at her, Ivy would have laughed at his gullibility.

"Yeah, and no lies," added Murtogg.

Jack looked at them for a second. "Alright, I confess…" he began. Ivy was startled. She'd almost missed stealing one of her favorite lines.

"It is our intention to commandeer one of these ships, pick up a crew in Tortuga, raid, pillage, plunder, and otherwise pilfer our weasley black guts out," they finished together. Jack gave the grey-eyed girl a questioning look, and she mouthed, "Psychic." This was ridiculously fun.

"I said no lies!" Murtogg cried, indignantly. Ivy snickered inaudibly.

"I think he's telling the truth."

"If he was telling the truth he wouldn't have told us," reasoned Murtogg. In a strange way, this actually made sense.

"Unless, of course, he knew you wouldn't believe the truth even if he told it to you," Ivy piped in. That line was just asking to be stolen, and it sounded better if Jack wasn't speaking in third person, she thought.

That sentence, as she knew it would, left the two men completely confused. Jack looked relatively puzzled too. Ivy guessed he was trying to figure out who Bilbo Baggins was.

**This isn't my favorite chapter, since it's mostly just the movie, but that's alright. Reviews will find you incapacitorially finding and/or locating in your discovering, a detecting of a way to get me to update sooner. Yep. **

**Again, critique is okay. I want to know if I'm doing something wrong. Feel free to be nitpicky. Alrighty, then.**


	4. Much Buckling of Swashes

**And, here's chapter four. Yippee. Norrington is fun. **

**NazgulQueen- Tyrone, Emma, Jordan, Haley, Ivy, and Ted all got sucked in. Haley's the only one we haven't seen yet. grins **

**Sayla Ragnarok- Actually, they aren't based on my friends, but I'm glad you like it. **

**Disclaimer: Oh, PotC was a movie, and I wish it were mine! It never drank water! And rum doesn't rhyme! (If anyone knows what song that was a bad parody of, you get a virtual slice of pie.)**

Jordan had nearly fallen asleep, but snapped out of his thoughts when the promotion ceremony finally ended. _Now what_? he wondered, wishing he'd paid more attention to the movie. He saw somebody he thought was Elizabeth talking to one of the many men in wigs. _That's Commodore Norrington_, he realized suddenly. He started walking toward them, hoping to gain some plot information from their conversation. Elizabeth was fanning herself desperately, and Jordan recognized the signs of someone who was about to faint. Before he could say anything, she toppled into the sea. Jordan started running, but by the time he got there, the commodore had already noticed, and was preparing to jump after her. Jordan peered over the edge of the balcony. There was a splash between a set of extremely sharp and daunting rocks.

"Sir! The rocks!" he shouted, before the man could jump. A little common sense never hurt anyone. Another wigged man nodded, rushing to Norrington's side.

"It's a miracle she missed them!" he added. Norrington calmed down and stepped back from the ledge. The second man looked at Jordan gratefully. Jordan smiled back at him. They seemed to be the only two sane individuals in this place.

"Gillette," the man said, offering a hand. Jordan took it.

"Potter," he answered. Jordan was not feeling so out of place here anymore. At least he had one friend in this warped place.

"… and then, they made me their chief." Ivy had been listening intently to Jack's embellished tale of a previous run-in with the Pelegostos, but at these words, she spun around to look at the water.

SPLASH! Right on schedule.

"Will you be saving her, then?" Jack asked casually.

"I can't swim," Mullroy told them, apologetically. Murtogg shook his head.

"Pride of the King's Navy you are," Ivy muttered before Jack had the chance. She wasn't one to talk, of course, seeing as she could barely do more than flail about in the water. The pirate handed Ivy his "effects".

"Do not lose these." Though she'd seen it a thousand times in the movie, Ivy was still impressed by his perfect dive. He was even better than Emma, which was saying something. Ivy braced herself for the medallion's signal, but it still took her by surprise. The wind was much stronger than it had seemed in the movie. Her long braid swung to the side, hitting Murtogg in the nose. When the wind died down, the blonde girl looked down at Jack's things. She set down the pistol and sword gingerly, but put the dirt-encrusted tricorner hat on her head. Remembering the second movie, she opened the compass, closing her eyes for a moment as it spun to and fro. When she opened her eyes, the needle had chosen a direction. It pointed due west. She memorized the direction, not knowing what it meant.

As Jack emerged with Elizabeth, Ivy slammed the compass shut and scooped up the weapons, before helping the guards with the girl's unexpectedly heavy body. "She's not breathing," cried Murtogg. Jack shoved him out of the way. He cut through her corset, and handed it to the officer. The governor's daughter jerked back to life.

"Never would have thought of that," commented Mullroy.

"Clearly you've never been to Singapore," quipped Ivy, turning the full power of her dead fish look on him.

"Where did you get that?" she heard Jack say. Ivy turned around, just in time to see a flash of gold from the Aztec medallion. She moved to get a closer look, but was stopped abruptly by the muskets aimed at her head. She glanced up to see that Commodore Norrington and his group had joined them on the docks.

"On your feet." Ivy obeyed immediately. She felt a large chunk of her euphoria at ending up in her favorite movie slipping away temporarily. She knew Jack would get out of this alive, but there was no way on Earth that she could pull off the same amazing escape he did. She'd never been athletic, and she had no strength whatsoever.

Governor Swann rushed to his daughter's aid. "Elizabeth! Are you alright?" he asked, helping her to her feet. He put his coat on her, to cover up her "exposed" body, then glared at Murtogg, who was holding the drenched corset. The soldier pointed to Jack. "Shoot him!" urged the governor.

"Father!" gasped Elizabeth, "Commodore, do you really intend to kill my rescuer?" The commodore hesitated a bit.

"I believe thanks are in order." He extended a hand. Jack looked at it warily. He took it. Norrington twisted his hand around, revealing the P brand.

"Had a brush with the East India Trading Company, did we, pirate?" sneered Norrington, emphasizing the last word.

Governor Swann was excited again. "Hang him!"

"Keep your guns on him, men. Gillette, fetch some irons." Ivy was so caught up in it all that she'd almost forgotten that she had weapons pointed at her as well. Suddenly, Norrington turned to the girl. "And you? What role do you play in all this?" Ivy put on her best poker face. If she could talk her way out of this…

"I'm no pirate, sir. He was kidnapping me," she squeaked. The commodore still looked suspicious. It probably had something to do with the fact that she was still wearing Jack's hat. Ivy held out her brandless wrists as proof. Norrington nodded.

"I pray you'll have better luck in the future avoiding filth like…" he glanced at the tattoo above the brand, a sparrow and a rising sun. Ivy had always thought it looked decidedly un-piratey. "… Jack Sparrow, isn't it?"

"Captain," Ivy hissed. Norrington's eyes flicked to her, and she shrugged.

"Captain Jack Sparrow," the pirate confirmed.

"Well, I don't see your ship, Captain," taunted Norrington. Ivy stole a glance at the docks. The Jolly Mon was long gone, consumed by the water of the bay.

"I'm in the market as it were." The commodore smirked. Murtogg and Mullroy stepped forward.

"He said he'd come to commandeer one," Murtogg said, helpfully.

"Told you he was telling the truth," gloated Mullroy. Ivy suppressed a laugh, with some difficulty, then realized something was missing.

"These are his, sir," she announced, handing Norrington her armful of objects. Jack glared at her, pure venom, and she seemed to shrink a little. The commodore threw her a grateful look. Ivy had always defended Norrington when Haley and Emma had criticized him, so she didn't feel too bad about temporarily betraying Jack. That was a lie. Actually, she felt terrible, but she had to move the plot along.

"No additional shots nor powder," the wigged man said, examining Jack's pistol. Jack was scowling. "A compass that doesn't point north," he continued, watching the needle, "and I half expected it to be made of wood." This last comment referred to the pirate's sword. "You are without a doubt the worst pirate I've ever heard of," he concluded.

"But, you have heard of me," Jack objected. He was sent over to Gillette, to be "clapped in irons".

"Commodore, I really must protest," Elizabeth cut in, "pirate or not, this man saved my life."

"One good deed is not enough to redeem a man of a lifetime of wickedness."

"Though it seems enough to condemn him," Ivy added, before realizing it was probably not the best thing to say, since she was still under suspicion. Clearly, most girls of this time period did not go around wearing pants.

"Indeed," answered Norrington, sharply. Gillette finished, stepping away.

"Finally," Jack exclaimed, swinging the chain on his wrists around Elizabeth's neck. Nobody was paying attention to Ivy any more, which was fine by her. She darted past the guards, and into the streets of Port Royal, heading, arbitrarily, in the direction the compass had pointed.

She walked briskly down the streets of Port Royal, which became more and more crowded as she went. A few odd looks came her way, due to her clothing, but on the whole, Ivy was able to slip by without trouble. As she followed the compass' path, she encountered a rather familiar statue with an even more familiar smelly pirate behind it. Glancing up, she realized the blacksmith's shop was directly in the path she'd memorized. What on Earth?

The girl flung herself against a wall as troops ran past, then snuck into the shop half a minute after Jack. He was currently attacking his shackles with a hammer.

"Jack?" she called, tentatively. He glanced up, glaring at her, and went right back to trying to free himself. Ivy tried again. "You do realize I knew you were going to escape, right? I'm psychic, remember? I just had to get out of there in one piece." The pirate grunted noncommittally. "Plus, I know how to get you out of those." At that, his head jerked up. Ivy pointed to the gears above their heads. Jack looked at them, the irons, the donkey, then grinned. He reached for a red-hot piece of metal. It was a mistake.

"NO!" screeched Ivy, the biggest animal-rights activist on the east coast, according to her friends. She stood between the donkey and Jack, eyes blazing. The pirate's face took on a somewhat amusing frightened expression, and he looked nervously at the door.

"Keep it down, will ye, love?" he hissed. Ivy mumbled an apology. She hurried over to the donkey, who was watching the warily, and clapped. The animal started walking. She clapped again, and he sped up. Ivy ducked into the corner Jack was going to hide in later, and left him to get rid of the irons on her own.

Just as he was supposed to, the pirate soon slid in next to her, ironless and hatless. She heard Will's footsteps as he entered the smithy. "Hat," Ivy whispered to Jack. She was rewarded with a dead fish look. Ah, well, she'd known he wouldn't do anything about it.

"Right where I left you," Will remarked. There was a pause, and then, "Not where I left you." Ivy didn't have as good of a view of the situation as Jack did, but she heard the sound of the pirate's cutlass sliding out to protect his precious tricorner. She peered over a nearby table.

"You're the one they're hunting. The pirate," realized Will.

"You look somewhat familiar. Have I threatened you before?" asked Jack casually. If looks had any effect on the physical world, the one the blacksmith was giving Jack would have reduced the pirate to a pile of melted kohl and scorched dreadlocks.

"I make a point of avoiding familiarity with pirates," he replied.

"Ah, well then, it would be a shame to put a black mark on your record. So, if you'll excuse me?" Jack said, beckoning to Ivy. She didn't move. There was still a lot of swashbuckling to do, and she didn't want any part in it. Jack, on the other hand, was completely surprised to find himself facing Will Turner's blade. "Do you think it wise, boy, crossing blades with a pirate?" he asked, drawing his own sword, and fixing Will with one of the dead fish looks, which were getting more and more use.

"You threatened Miss Swann," offered Will, by way of explanation. There was another moment of tension, as both fighters looked at each other.

Then, Jack lunged forward. "Only a little."

They spun, producing a clash of metal, and a whir of light, reflected off the blades. Frankly, Ivy had no idea what they were doing or how they were doing it, but it looked amazing.

It also looked highly deadly, so she stayed where she was.

"You know what you're doing, I'll give you that. Excellent form. But how's your footwork? If I step here-"The pirate moved, Will's weapon along with him. "Very good. Now, I step again. Ta." Jack moved toward the door, but froze as Will's sword whistled past his head, lodging in the door next to his ear. He reached up to still the quivering blade, then tried to pull it out. "That is a wonderful trick," said the pirate, turning to Will, "but once again, you are between me and my way out, and now, you have no weapon." He moved toward the blacksmith, who looked on the verge of panic. Suddenly, he reached behind him, pulling out a heating sword that looked a lot like the rod Jack had been planning to use on the donkey.

Said donkey saw the glowing metal, and began walking, adding yet another element to the fight. The swashbuckling had started up again, more frenzied this time, and Ivy was forced to seek cover underneath the table.

"Who makes all these?" she heard Jack ask. Somehow, they managed to fight while still engaging in conversation.

"I do!" shouted the blacksmith, "and I practice with them three hours a day." Ivy was impressed, but Jack found this rather pathetic.

"You need to find yourself a girl, mate. Or perhaps the reason that you practice three hours a day is that you already found one, and are otherwise incapable of wooing said strumpet." He looked down. "You're not a eunuch, are you?"

"I practice three hours a day, so that when I meet a pirate, I can kill it!" roared Will. The fight went on. Since Ivy couldn't see a thing from where she was, she amused herself by wondering how Tyrone, fencing champion, would fare in an actual fight. He was obviously nowhere near as good as Will or Jack, but he would likely be able to hold his own against a lesser swordsman. There was a loud noise, and before she knew it, both men had moved their fight to the rafters. Ivy looked up at them, peering over the edge of the table… just in time to be hit by the cloud of sand. Though on the set, the dust that covered Will was made of chocolate powder, here it was most certainly not. Ivy began coughing, and stumbled out of her hiding place. Jack aimed his pistol at Will.

"You cheated!" accused Will, who hadn't noticed the blonde girl.

Jack chose to take this as a compliment. "Pirate," he and Ivy said at the same time. Ivy had recovered from her coughing fit, and was ready to start stealing lines again.

"Who are-" Will began, looking at the girl. Ivy heard soldiers outside.

"Move away," ordered Jack, looking at the back door. He heard the men as well.

"No," argued the blacksmith, rather pointlessly, since he was unarmed.

"Please, move," the pirate tried again.

"No! I cannot just step aside and let you escape!" He was still trying to figure out who Ivy was. After a moment, it became clear that the guards were about to get in. Jack cocked his pistol.

"This shot is not meant for you," he said, evenly. Luckily for Will, Mr. Brown chose this moment to hit Jack on the head with an empty bottle. He collapsed onto the floor, just in time for Norrington and his posse to show up.

"Excellent work, Mr. Brown," he said, taking in the unconscious pirate. The commodore looked at Ivy. "Two dangerous fugitives, perhaps."

"Just doing my civic duty, sir," slurred Will's employer. He positively reeked of slime and alcohol.

"Well, I trust that you will always remember this as the day Captain Jack Sparrow almost escaped." Ivy couldn't help grinning when Norrington said that. She liked that line. "Take them away."

"Somebody didn't get proper credit," mumbled Ivy, looking at a rather disappointed Will, as she was dragged off.

**Reviews are grand. **

**I shall now take a poll… who's your favorite character of the six? Answer when you review. Even if you don't answer the poll, review anyway.**

**TheRe arE no Visible sublimInal mEssages in these Words. **


	5. Bad Analogies

**This is a REALLY short chapter. Why? Because I want to update, and I'm too lazy to type the other half of the chapter first. Yep. **

**Disclaimer: I had a dream last night that I owned PotC. Pity it wasn't true. **

Haley didn't mind as much as she had originally. The uncomfortable dress and the cleaning, that was. She'd woken that morning in Governor Swann's house, and quickly accepted her role as the new maid. To her dismay, not only had her light blue sparkly jeans and pink sequined ballet flats been replaced by a dress the color of a violently ill rhinoceros, that, although it didn't include a corset, might as well have, for all the air it let into her lungs, she had also missed the arrival of candelabra-breaking William Turner by two minutes. Refraining from throwing a fit about this, she talked to Estrella for a while, then got to work on the incredibly boring task of dusting.

She and Estrella had to stay home and work on keeping the house in order while the Governor and Elizabeth went to Norrington's promotion ceremony. Haley was annoyed about this, until she realized that it would most likely be more boring than one of Jordan's book reports, which was a scary thought.

She wasn't thrilled about the dress or the job, but Estrella was nice enough, for all that she was terribly annoying, and mostly, it was just HALEY'S DREAM to be dropped into one of her favorite movies, particularly one where she could gaze at a wet Orlando Bloom. In other words, Haley Potter was content. And so, she dusted.

Ivy sat around, waiting for Jack to wake up. She hadn't realized people were unconscious for this long after being knocked out. Then again, she'd never been knocked out herself, so she wouldn't know. Ivy scooted further to the far side of the cell, trying to ignore the four pirates in the next cell, who had noticed that she was the only female in the jail, and were loudly discussing doing something with that information.

The girl curled up in a ball, leaning against the bars of the cell door, wishing she would cry. She should be crying. She'd been dragged away from the world she knew, her friends, and her drawing, and dropped into a dangerous world, and now, she was in a grimy prison cell with four vulgar pirates, and one unconscious, smelly pirate, and she was cold. Her grey eyes remained perfectly dry. And that scared her.

At some point, she started whimpering softly, and the dog with the keys trotted over. Ivy threaded her hand through the bars, petting him absentmindedly. He reminded her of Ted's dog, Ian. The girl fell asleep, sometime later, leaning against the door, her hands in the dog's gray fur, her skin frozen white.

Jordan and Gillette were the only ones not asleep at the guns. They'd been talking since the end of the Sparrow incident, which Jordan hadn't gotten to witness. Both of them, it seemed, usually thought they were the only ones with any brains or common sense, so they had a lot to discuss, mostly how incredibly stupid and irrational people they knew were. Jordan thought up a nice backstory revolving around his growing up in England and joining the Navy. He'd even been able to add in details from history books or articles he'd read. Now, he and Gillette were standing around by the cannons and fighting the urge to fall asleep, like everyone else.

Below them, on a lower level of the fort, Commodore Norrington and Governor Swann were talking about something. The ocean was clear of any threats; white sails would stand out like dinosaurs in a fishbowl against the dark night, even with the strange fog creeping in. Still, Jordan refused to fail at what was expected of him, so he stayed awake.

Suddenly, Gillette let out something close to a small shriek. Jordan's slowly closing eyes flew open. For a moment, he didn't see the ship, large as it was. It was black, and defied the laws of physics by coming straight toward them, despite the ripped, dark sails. That's not possible, thought Jordan, feeling oddly disconnected from the world.

And then, there was cannonfire

**So, that's what Haley's been up to. And just so you know, I am not an Orlando fangirl. Haley is. I'm not. **

**-complains- I want to be done typing this, so I can start writing the next one. Yes, this will be a trilogy. And then, there will be ficlets. –stops complaining-**

**Reviews make me happy. Being happy makes me type faster. Typing faster lets me update sooner. See where I'm going with this?**


	6. Night in Port Royal

**It's Chapter Six! Yay! By the way, I've started writing the sequel to this (I'm on page seven) so I'll be typing a bit slower. Reviews are always much appreciated. **

**Disclaimer: All I own are my six characters and their lives. And my immortal soul. Oh, never mind. I gave that last one to Davy Jones for a Christmas present. **

Haley and Estrella bustled about Elizabeth's room, tidying things up. Or rather, Estrella did that. Haley stared out the window at the growing darkness, eagerly awaiting the pirates' attack. The older maid was taking a bed warmer off the fire. Haley thought it looked suspiciously like a frying pan. She certainly wouldn't want one of those in her bed, no matter how cold of a night it was.

"There you go, Miss. It was a difficult day for you, I'm sure." Estrella put the bed warmer between the sheets. Haley fully expected the governor's daughter to shriek and begin melting. She didn't. Ah, well…

"I suspected Commodore Norrington would propose, but I must admit, I wasn't entirely prepared for it," replied Elizabeth, politely. Haley almost giggled. Elizabeth was so annoying and serious. Why did she end up with Will?

"Well, I meant you being threatened by that pirate," Estrella clarified, "Sounds terrifying."

"Oh, yes, it was terrifying," Elizabeth answered half-heartedly. Estrella wasn't giving up that easily. She pressed on.

"But, the Commodore proposed. Fancy that."

"Now that's a smart match, miss, if it's not too bold to say," Haley cut in, unable to resist it anymore. She thought they should have gotten married at the end of the film, leaving Will free. The perfect boring couple. Elizabeth Norrington was even a perfectly boring name.

"It is a smart match. He's a fine man. He's what any woman should dream of marrying." Haley had to stop herself from pretending to throw up. She couldn't picture anyone dreaming of marrying Norrington. Nightmares maybe, but dreams, no.

"Well, that Will Turner, he's a fine man too," Estrella said, leadingly. Haley couldn't agree more. She was instantly caught up in Orlando-land.

"That is too bold," snapped Elizabeth. The conversation was dead and buried.

"Well, begging your pardon, miss, it was not my place to say," the maid said, the very picture of innocence. A very badly forged picture. Haley had been forced to listen to her fellow maid's officious questions and gossip all day. Estrella left quickly, and Haley followed.

Jordan and Gillette were no longer the only ones awake. Nothing like a burning cannonball whooshing over your head to interrupt your sleep. A glimpse over the rail showed Norrington tackling the governor to the ground, as yet another shell zoomed through the air they'd just occupied.

A few moments later, the commodore was shouting out orders. "Sight the muzzle flashes! I need a full strike, fore and aft!"

Jordan rarely did not know something. This was one of the rare times. The younger twin had no idea what those orders meant, but he gathered they involved the cannons somehow. "You heard him! Load the guns!" he shouted, feeling slightly less foolish as the recently awoken officers sprung to listen to him, and Gillette gave him a look of approval. Jordan was born for management.

None of the cannonballs met their mark, so they tried again. Jordan was considering panicking. This was a situation where death was a distinct possibility. Luckily, the decision was made for him when a figure from behind him, one of the pirates from the attacking ship, hit him on the back of the head with a mallet.

"They're here!" The cry died on his lips as he slumped over.

Jordan Potter's unconscious figure lay sprawled on the stone floor, his olive skin lit up by the flickering light of the full moon.

Ivy had been sleeping peacefully until she was jerked awake by a resounding boom in the distance. The dog had run off, and Jack was awake. She could hear people screaming outside. A second burst of manmade thunder met her ears.

"I know those guns," Captain Jack Sparrow started.

'The Pearl!" gasped Ivy, realizing a moment later that she'd stolen the second half of Jack's line. One of the pirates in the other cell heard her.

"The Black Pearl? I've heard stories. She's been preying on ships and settlements for near ten years. Never leaves any survivors." The other three glanced apprehensively in the direction of the noises.

Jack apparently felt the situation required a dead fish look. He provided it. "No survivors?" he asked incredulously. "Then, where do the stories come from, I wonder?" The other prisoners considered this for a moment. One of them looked like he was about to say something, but right about then, the wall exploded. A cannonball ripped through it, leaving a gaping hole. Ivy let out a shrill scream at a volume she hadn't known she was capable of. All five of them stared at her. She wasn't the center of attention for long. It didn't take the pirates long, dumb as they were, to figure out they were free.

"My sympathies, friend. You've no manner of luck at all," laughed the last man to leave. Jack sighed theatrically, picked up the dropped bone, and held it out to the dog.

"Come on, doggy. It's just you and me, now. It's just you and ol' Jack," he called. Ivy was getting rather sick of being forgotten. She made a noise that sounded a lot like "arrr-uff!", offering a hand to the canine. Keys jangling, he trotted over and sniffed the girl's hand. Jack reached through the bars and grabbed the keys. The dog, who appeared to have some stubborn terrier somewhere in his lineage, refused to relinquish his prize. He growled playfully and held on tight. "Come on, let go," Jack urged. "Please, let go. Let. Go. Give me the keys, boy. Come on, you filthy, slimy, mangy cur!" There was a clatter in the hall, and the dog wrenched the keys from the pirate's hands and bolted. "No, no, no! I didn't mean it!" Jack called after it. He turned to Ivy. "You're psychic, love, tell him to come back. Or tell me the way to get out. Do sommat useful." Apparently, he was attributing her success with the dog to her magical powers, instead of her obsession with animal behavior. That was fine with her.

"Sorry," Ivy lied, "you insulted him. And, by the way, if you see that blacksmith again, ask his name." It was the only thing she could think of. A dead guard tumbled down the stairs, and Ivy gasped, startled. "Koehler and Twigg," she muttered.

"Meaning the-" Jack started to ask, recognizing the names from his old crew, but before he could finish, the two pirates came down the stairs.

"This ain't the armory," complained Twigg, looking around. He prepared to go back to the streets. Koehler, however, had noticed the occupants of the cell. One of them, at least.

"Well, well, well… look what we have here, Twigg. Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Last time I saw you, you were all alone on a godforsaken island," murmured Twigg. He spit, then addressed Koehler. "His fortunes aren't improved much." Neither of the two appeared to have noticed Ivy, for which she was grateful.

"Worry about you own fortunes, gentlemen. The deepest circle of Hell is reserved for betrayers and mutineers," he assured them, cheerfully.

Koehler, the more vicious of the two, shot his hand forward through a circle of moonlight to wrap his fingers around Jack's neck. His hand and wrist became skeletal as they touched the moonlight. The effect of flesh turning suddenly to raw bone was not nearly as disgusting as Ivy thought it would be, which was probably what caused Jack to say, calmly, "So, there is a curse. That's interesting," instead of screaming in terror.

"You know nothing of Hell," Koehler growled. He released Jack and left with Twigg.

"You know nothing in general," Ivy retorted softly, one she was sure they were out of earshot. Jack laughed bitterly.

"That's very interesting," he repeated. Ivy looked again at the beam of moonlight. Something about it was bothering her, but she couldn't put a finger on it. The illumination shrunk and died as the moon slipped behind a cloud. Finally, Ivy settled for going back to sleep.

**And there was much rejoicing. **

**Review, yefilthy, slimy, mangy curs! Review, ye bloomin' cockroaches! Review, ye scabrous dogs! Review, ye slack-jawed idiots! Review, ye scallywags! Review, ye… um… French people! Review, or we will taunt you again. **

**Heh. **


	7. A Bit Squeamish

**My internet's been broken for a few days, now, so I'm just getting this up now. I also haven't seen the movie lately, so if various things, like what the monkey does with the coin, and Barbossa's lines, are wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.**

**Schmergie- I. Am. Not. An. Orlando. Bloom. Fangirl. Hisssss… You are forgiven for now, because you are my best friend, but I advise you not to accuse me of that again. –attempts menacing look and fails- Thanks for the reviews, though.**

**NazgulQueen- Frenchman is in your blood, so you're going to have to square with that, someday.**

**Sayla Ragnarok- Moonlight. Moonlight. Check out the moon references and see if this brings up any questions… not major, but important later. In a minor sort of way. I'm not making sense. Then again, I rarely do.**

**Disclaimer: Nobody even reads these things. I could write "PotC is mine! Muahahahaha! Loserz!" here and Disney would never know. Regrettably, it would be a lie. **

Haley, along with Estrella and Elizabeth, stood at the top of the stairs, frozen in terror as the butler responded to a knock on the door. Haley wasn't actually too worried. She knew everything that was going to happen, and she planned on running away when Estrella did. Spending more time with the prissy governor's daughter than necessary was out of the question. Even the booming guns outside didn't faze her.

"Don't!" cried Elizabeth. Haley rolled her eyes.

"Hello, chum," Pintel said, then shot the butler at point-blank.

Haley screamed. She'd never seen anyone die before, and she couldn't stop the pure horror from escaping her lips. The sound immediately drew the notice of the pirates.

"Up there!" shouted Pintel. Haley wasn't aware of anything except spots of light dancing before her eyes until they were hiding in the closet. She supposed Elizabeth had dragged her along, and she would have complained, but she was too worn-out from nearly fainting. Haley had always been squeamish. She couldn't stand the sight of anything remotely gross or bloody, let alone somebody being shot. Estrella was long gone. Haley knew she'd escaped while the pirates were distracted by the burning ashes from the bed-warmer. In the room outside, the dark-haired girl heard the distinctive sound of the door being forced in.

"We know you're here, poppet!" called Pintel in a sing-song voice. Elizabeth turned to Haley.

"Shhh…," she hissed. The warning was unnecessary. Even talkative Haley knew enough to stay quiet when her life was in danger. She rolled her jungle-green eyes at the older girl.

"Poppet," echoed Ragetti. In real life, the pirates were not so funny. In fact, they were incredibly sinister. Haley resisted the urge to say something.

"Come out," Pintel was saying now, "and we promise we won't hurt you." There was a pause, and then, he continued. "We will find you, poppet. You've got something of ours and it calls to us. The gold calls to us."

"Gold calls," repeated Ragetti. Terrified though she was, Haley still found this exceedingly annoying. Did he have an original thought in his head? Haley wasn't near the space between the doors, so she couldn't see them, only hear their voices and footsteps. Of course, she'd watched the movie enough to know exactly where they were at any point, but living it was different. Suddenly, she smelled rather than felt Pintel's breath. It wasn't nearly as rum soaked as she'd expected, which puzzled for a moment, before she remembered why. Ah, right. He couldn't drink anything.

"'Ello, poppet." The doors swung open.

"Parley!" cried Elizabeth and Haley at the same time.

"What?"

Haley let Elizabeth answer, frightened she'd botch the line, losing credibility. "Parley. I invoke the rights of parley. According to the Code of the Brethren, set down by the pirates Morgan and Bartholomew, you have to take us to your captain."

"I know the code," snapped Pintel, irritated. Even without the scent of alcohol, he still smelled revolting.

"If an adversary demands parley, you can do them no harm until the parley is complete." Oops. Haley hadn't meant to say that. She hoped it didn't matter, and that the plot wouldn't change in some gargantuan way.

"To blazes with the code."

"They want to be taken to the captain, and they'll go without a fuss. We must honor the Code," Pintel snickered to Ragetti, who grinned.

Haley felt like screaming, "No, not me, I don't want to be taken to the captain, no I don't, just ignore me, that's alright!" but seeing as the alternative was death or worse, she stayed silent, as she and Elizabeth were led out to the streets. They passed Will, which cheered Haley up immensely by reminding her that this was a movie, and they would be rescued.

Then, her mood plummeted. Elizabeth would be rescued. Haley was just a random maid, dispensable. She needed to think, but it was impossible with the bloodshed everywhere. She closed her eyes as they walked toward the Black Pearl, but it didn't keep her from hearing the screams.

She opened her eyes around the time they arrived at the ship, the beginning of a plan in her mind. It wasn't nearly as good as what her friends would do, but it would have to suffice. Haley's reaction to the Pearl was infinitely different than Ivy's. To her, it had always seemed eerie and gloomy, everything about it the anti-thesis of Haley. Even in the second movie, she hadn't been fond of it. Now, she shivered as she and Elizabeth were led onto the ship, watched closely by the crowd of leering pirates.

"I didn't know we was taking on captives," muttered Bo'sun, confronting Pintel and Ragetti.

"They've invoked the right of parley with Captain Barbossa," Pintel explained. A few in the crowd laughed, which did nothing to improve Haley's already dismal mood.

"I am here to negotiate," began Elizabeth, and the towering dark-skinned pirate slapped her. Haley twitched, taking a deep breath.

"You will speak when spoken to," he barked, preparing to slap her again. Captain Barbossa seemed to step out of nowhere, grabbing his first mate's wrist.

"And ye'll not lay a hand on those under the protection of parley," he informed Bo'sun, then looked at the two girls. "My apologies, Miss."

"Captain Barbossa, we are here to negotiate the cessation of hostilities against Port Royal," Elizabeth declared. Haley was a bit impressed despite herself with how calm the older girl was, considering all this.

"There are a lot of big words, in there, Miss," the captain stated, "We're naught but humble pirates. What is it that you want?" Haley was feeling a lot braver now, and she refused to let Elizabeth look smarter and braver than her. Imaginary pirates, Haley told herself. Imaginary pirates can't hurt you… even if they do have very sharp imaginary swords.

"We want you to leave and never come back," she snapped before Elizabeth could. The aforementioned imaginary pirates laughed.

"I'm disinclined to acquiesce to your request," Barbossa told him after the crew's laughter had died down. Haley knew and loved the line, and had used it many times when instructed to eat asparagus, but the confusion was evident on Elizabeth's face. "Means 'no'," clarified Barbossa. The crew laughed again.

"Very well," said Elizabeth, stepping over to dangle the medallion over the edge of the boat, "I'll drop it." Barbossa did absolutely nothing. Haley was impressed. Disguising a reaction to something was beyond her.

"My holds are bursting with swag. That bit of shine matters to us? Why?"

"It's what you've been searching for," Elizabeth started. Haley cut in. Time to start her plan.

"We recognized the ship. We saw it eight years ago on the crossing from England," she finished. Barbossa looked at both of them, interestedly, and at the Aztec gold hanging precariously over the waves, the key to his freedom ready to drop straight to the depths of Davy Jones' locker if he made a wrong move.

"Did ye, now?"

Elizabeth stared at Haley. She obviously had no idea what her maid was doing. "Fine," the governor's daughter snapped, "Well, I suppose if it's worthless, there's no point in me keeping it." She let the coin slip from her hand, but held onto the chain, creating the illusion of the medallion falling. Every member of the crew who could see it lunged forward, then stopped when they realized she still had it. Nobody said a word. Elizabeth had made her point.

"Ah." Barbossa chuckled. "You have a name, Missy?"

"Turner," answered Haley, quickly, "Haley and Elizabeth Turner. We're maids in the governor's household." They curtsied, rather awkwardly in Haley's case, since she still wasn't quite used to her voluminous dress.

"Miss Turner, is it?" Barbossa asked. Haley could have sworn his eyes literally lit up. "You don't look like sisters." He took in Elizabeth's brown eyes and hair, and fair skin, and Haley's dark, rough hair, olive skin, green eyes, and freckles, plus the obvious difference in height. Haley hadn't thought of that.

"We share a father," she explained, quickly, before Elizabeth could protest.

"Bootstrap!" hissed Pintel, grinning. Elizabeth, still holding the medallion over the side of the ship, was perplexed. She gave Haley a questioning look.

"Haley… that's an unusual name," the captain continued. He was still suspicious.

"My name's Harriet-Lily, but I hate it," she admitted. Barbossa nodded, not arguing with that. If he had, Haley would have gotten quite mad, since of all the things she'd told him so far, this was true. Haley hated to lie or be accused of it, and she would have snapped it someone disputed the one truth she'd told. She was now very grateful her parents hadn't named her Skylar, as she'd often wished. That would have been hard to explain away.

"And how does a maid come to own a trinket such as that? Family heirloom, perhaps?" Barbossa asked, gesturing toward the medallion. Elizabeth misinterpreted the question.

"I didn't steal it, if that's what you mean."

"Very well, you hand it over and we'll put our town to our rudder and ne'er return," the captain told them, dramatically. A sinister smile made its way onto his face, and Haley would have insisted he take her back to Port Royal would it not have thrown off the plot beyond measure. Elizabeth placed the gold in Barbossa's outstretched hand. He handed it to his monkey, who bit into it, cheerfully.

"Our bargain?" inquired Elizabeth. Barbossa turned and walked away, shouting orders to the crew.

"Still the guns and stow 'em. Signal the men and make good to clear port!"

"Wait!" shouted Elizabeth, running forward. Haley followed her, swiftly. "Stop! You have to take us to shore! According to the Code of the Order of the Brethren--," Barbossa cut her off.

"First," he snapped, "your return to shore was not part of our negotiations nor our agreement, so I must do nothing. And secondly, you must be a pirate for the pirate's Code to apply, and you're not. And thirdly, the code is more what you'd call 'guidelines' than rules." That line, and its accompanying facial expressions had never ceased to amuse Haley. Until now. Barbossa had been her favorite character, besides Will, but she suspected that was going to be changing very soon. "Welcome aboard the Black Pearl, Miss Turner!"

**Not the best I've ever written, but Haley is fun. Yay for the Haley. And the Barbossa. **

**Here's a nifty pneumonic device to help you remember what you should do after reading this chapter.**

**Really Evil Vipers Intentionally Eat Watermelons. **

**Or, was that too subtle?**

**coughrevieworelsecough **

**Allergy season. **


	8. Rash Actions

**Here we go. Chapter eight. **

**Disclaimer: PotC is not mine. Happy, now? -turns into a ten-foot-tall fire-breathing llama- Well, you better be! Rawr.**

**Schmerg- Plenty of Jordan and Ted for you, m'dear.**

**Sayla Ragnarok- In that case, Barbossa was only talking to Elizabeth. To him, Haley's just a pathetic little short person. Heh. Ivy and Jack are fun, but there are six sides to a hexagon, and only one of them includes Captain Sparrow at the moment.**

**The world is a historically inaccurate place, but it's not my fault. Clio's on strike. Says she wants a dental plan. If you can identify where both of those references came from, you get a cookie. In fact, everyone gets a cookie. These days, you get one on your computer every time you visit a webpage. Anyway, without further ado… **

Jordan woke the next morning in what looked like an infirmary, a throbbing pain at the back of his head. Where am I? he wondered for a second, before his memories of the previous day came flooding back. One the beds surrounding him, others injured in the raid lay, some unconscious. Jordan was among the luckier ones. Two beds away, a man looked down, eyes wide, at the empty space where his legs had once been. Next to him, a heavily bandaged child clutched a doll to her chest. Jordan doubted some of them would make it through the day.

He eased himself up from the cot-like bed, checking his own injuries. All limbs seemed to be intact, although he had a nasty gash on his arm, and a painful lump on the back of his head. Glancing around, he saw nobody but the dead and wounded. Jordan walked slowly out into the streets.

"Potter!" someone shouted, walking toward him. He turned to see Gillette. "You're back among the living?" the lieutenant asked. Jordan attempted to smile, something he didn't do very often, particularly not when he'd been whisked back in time and dropped into the middle of a huge battle.

"What happened?" he asked his friend.

"One of the pirates hit you with something and-" he began. Jordan stopped him.

"No, I know what happened to me." He looked at his arm. "What happened with the pirates? They're obviously gone, but why?"

"We were losing," Gillette answered, grimacing as he said it. He started to lead Jordan through the crowded streets, "and then they just left. It was strange. They left over half of the valuables alone, though they did take the governor's daughter, along with one of her maids. We originally thought they'd come to free Sparrow, but they left him in jail." Jordan digested this, raising an eyebrow. He thought he remembered from the movie that the undead pirates –ah, that was why they were losing- kidnapped Elizabeth, but he forgot why, and he was quite sure they didn't take the maid as well.

"A maid?" he asked, curiously. Gillette shrugged.

"It's odd, I know. Who knows what goes on in the minds of pirates? Vile, irrational scum." Jordan could see why Norrington and Gillette got along well.

"Do we have plans to go after them?" That sounded like something a naval officer would say, Jordan decided. He actually rather liked this new identity. He liked to be in charge of things and keep people safe, and he'd never understood his sister's obsession with pirates. They were really nothing more than lawbreaking ruffians with no morals and even less hygiene.

"That's where we're going now," replied Gillette. The two of them entered what Jordan surmised to be the commodore's office.

"We have to hunt them down, we must save her," Will's voice rang out as they slipped through the door. Jordan rolled his coffee-colored eyes. Didn't he realize that was exactly what they were doing?

"And where do you propose we start? If you have any information concerning the whereabouts of my daughter and Haley potter, please share it," asked the governor, of the people already in the room. Jordan could not keep quiet.

"Haley Potter?" he exclaimed. Everyone stared at him.

"Yes," answered Norrington, dryly, irritated by the outburst. There was silence, as everyone waited for an explanation.

"She's my sister," he answered, slowly. "I didn't know she was in Port Royal, let alone…" He trailed off. In his rush to figure out what was going on, Jordan hadn't even considered that the others could be here too. And now, his sister had been kidnapped. He needed no further incentive to go along with the movie's plot. The silence dragged on for what seemed like an eternity, before one of the guards standing against the wall stepped forward.

"That Jack Sparrow, he talked about the Black Pearl," the man offered.

"Mentioned it, is more what he did," corrected his companion. Of course he did, thought Jordan. Wasn't he the captain? Maybe not. He felt thoroughly confused.

"Ask him where it is," suggested Will Turner, "Make a deal with him. He could lead us to it." Jordan thought the blacksmith was jumping to conclusions, although it was a good idea. Just because somebody mentioned something didn't mean they knew everything about it. For example, if Jordan said something about Portugal, it didn't mean he knew what countries bordered it or the major imports and- scratch that, he did. He switched his example to Haley. If she mentioned Portugal, there was no chance on earth she would know the major imports and exports. Then again, Haley probably thought Portugal was a Canadian province. She could be halfway to Portugal by now, and everyone was still standing around trying to decide what to do about it!

He refrained from shouting this out, though he was highly tempted.

"No," snapped the commodore, "the pirates who invaded this fort left Sparrow locked in his cell; ergo they are not his allies. Governor, we will establish their most likely course." Will's hatchet slammed into the map, and the table beneath it.

"That's not good enough!" Jordan stared at Will. It seemed like a good enough plan to him.

"Mr. Turner, you are not a not a military man, you are not a sailor. You are a blacksmith, and this is not the moment for rash actions. Do not make the mistake of thinking you are the only man here who cares for Elizabeth." Norrington pulled the hatchet out of the wood and handed it back to Will, who stormed out of the room. "Lieutenants, help ready the Dauntless for pursuit. We'll determine the most likely course, then make chase." Jordan and Gillette scurried out the door to do just that. Jordan was the tiniest bit worried when he realized he had no idea how to do anything involving ships, but he shoved that thought aside. If he was going to help rescue Haley, he'd better learn quickly.

Ted didn't realize he'd slept through the full moon until a while after he woke up, when he was finally alerted by the position of the sun. In his two years as a werewolf, he didn't remember ever sleeping completely through the transformation. It was certainly for the best, though, since he had none of the potion that stopped him from becoming a bloodthirsty wolf.

He stood up and opened the door, walking into the smithy's main area. Will, grabbing a sword from the walls and looking very distressed, spun around at the sound of the creaking door.

"What did I miss?" Ted asked, softly, trying to figure out where in the movies he was. Will looked like he just wanted to get out of there.

"Port Royal was attacked by pirates, who captured Miss Swann," he answered.

"Anything else?" he asked, wishing he could tell the blacksmith that Elizabeth would be fine, but not wanting to ruin the plot.

"They caught the two pirates that weren't on that ship, and threw them in jail. The ones that knew about the Black Pearl," he hissed. Something was wrong with that statement, but Ted was trying to focus on the plotline. Luckily, the fact that the incident was at the top of Will's mind told him exactly where he was.

"And now you're going to break him out of jail?" the werewolf asked, quickly so that Will wouldn't have a chance to think about lying. The blacksmith nodded, then gasped and shook his head adamantly. Ted smiled. Then, he realized what Will had said a few seconds earlier.

"Two pirates? Not one?"

"Why?"

"I… heard somebody say there was only one. Sparrow," he lied. Badly.

"No," confirmed Will, puzzled, "there was a girl, too." Ted's heart sank. "Blonde, long hair, pale skin." Ivy. Will said it as though it were nothing, which to him it probably was. "So, if you'd mind not telling anyone what I'm about to do? I don't want to have to tie you up or anything," Will warned, apologetically. Ted took a deep breath, pulling one of the many swords out of the racks.

"No need. I'm coming with you."

**-dramatic music plays- Yippee.**

**Yeah, Jordan's a lieutenant. He's going to come murder me in my sleep for not giving a plausible reason for his high rank, but oh well. **

**Reviews are as good as cheese fondue at the Melting Pot. (Disclaimer: Eat at Joes.)**

**There are many ways to spell review incorrectly. Reeview, revyoo, and rheviu for example. You should do all of them. **

**Seacrest, out! (Inside joke.)**


	9. Prison Break

**Hello. I am not yet dead! I can dance and I can sing! I am not yet dead! I can now update this thing! I am not yet dead! That rhyme inspires dread! It's just the same with this one, 'cause I'm not yet dead! Hee hee. I don't own Spamalot. **

**Anyhow, I'm updating. Yay. I've added lines separating changes in PoV for your convenience. **

**Schmergo- No special hat, but… well, you'll see later.**

**Admiral Norrington- Yep, AU. It's exactly the same as our world except for the lycanthropy thing, though.**

**Echosinice- Like the lines? And no, they aren't based on real people. **

**Sayla Ragnarok- Actually, the moon being noticeable was to get you all thinking about Ted. And yes, Ted can sleep through the full moon; it's just difficult. Store this away in your brains, folks. **

**Squee! You are all awesome! Keep reviewing!**

**Disclaimer: Surely, I haven't been away so long that you've all forgotten that I don't own PotC. **

Ivy watched, still huddled in her corner, as Jack tried to pick the lock with a bone. She waited patiently for the footsteps at the top of the stairs that would mark Will's arrival. They didn't come. The pirate kept jabbing at the mechanism. Still, nothing. Then, he dropped the bone on the ground outside the cell. Letting out a low string of curses, Jack reached through the bars, stretching his hand out to grab it again, but failed. Ivy swung her head around to stare at the dropped tool. That wasn't in the movie. She didn't know how long Jack spent on his lockpick method before Will arrived, but she knew for a fact that he was still at it when the blacksmith got there. Something was wrong. After a couple more futile attempts at getting the bone back, Jack sat down, crosslegged, on the floor and glared at the lock, as though willing it to click open.

And then, finally, there were footsteps.

Hurriedly, the pirate dropped to the floor, pretending to be doing just about anything but trying to escape. Ivy stayed where she was, seated in the corner. Why the delay? She hoped she hadn't messed anything up somehow.

"Wait here," barked Will, before running down the steps. Ivy's grey eyes opened wider. What? "You! Sparrow!" Will shouted.

"Aye," Jack answered lazily. Ivy wasn't sure whether to stay put, in hopes of not changing anything else, or moving closer so she could find out what was going on. Curiosity won. The girl stepped forward out of the shadows.

"You are familiar with that ship, the Black Pearl?"

"I've heard of it." Understatement of the century, thought Ivy. Just because she was in danger of causing drastic plot changes just by being there, leading to her eventual death, didn't make providing a silent commentary any less fun.

"Where does it make berth?" Will continued. Someone on the stairs tapped a foot impatiently, bored with the interrogation, waiting for something. Ivy's blood turned to ice. There was definitely somebody there.

"Where does it make berth? Have you not heard the stories?" answered Jack. There was only silence from Will, who clearly, hadn't heard the stories, and Ivy, whose mind was elsewhere. "Captain Barbossa and his crew of miscreants sail from the dreaded Isla de Muerta."

"It's an island that can only be found by those who already know where it is," Ivy added, helpfully. Then, she turned an interesting cotton candy pink. She'd mangled the line, if only slightly.

* * *

Ted wasn't paying too much attention. He did, after all, know this conversation by heart. Undead Miscreants would be an excellent name for a band, he mused.

"It's an island that can only be found by those who already know where it is." A familiar voice cut through his thoughts like a papercut. He nearly ran down the stairs to get Ivy out right then, but stopped himself. He didn't want to alter the scene.

"The ship's real enough," argued Turner, from below, "therefore its anchorage must be a real place. Where is it?"

"Why ask me?" Jack sounded like he had other places to be. Ted sighed. This conversation couldn't possibly be over soon enough.

* * *

"Because you're a pirate," argued Will.

"And you want to turn pirate yourself, is that it?" Ivy inquired. She'd now formed a rationale for snatching Jack's lines. If she said things Jack found clever or psychic, he would be more likely to keep her around, therefore letting her go on the adventure. Saying things that would be said anyway was an easy way to accomplish this. At least, that's what Ivy told herself. Even if she was only doing it because it was fun, she hated not feeling useful.

"Never!" snapped Will, glaring at her. "They took Miss Swann," he admit, a moment later.

"Oh, so it is that you've found a girl, I see. Well, if you're intending to brave all, hasten to her rescue, and so win fair lady's heart, you'll have to do it alone, mate."

"I see no profit in it for me," agreed Ivy, though the last thing she wanted was to be stuck in this cell for another moment. She congratulated herself on being a good liar.

"I can get you out of here,' stated Will.

"How's that? The key's run off." Ivy saw actual interest glimmer in Jack's eyes, though he tried to hide it.

"I helped build these cells. These are half pin-barrel hinges." The blacksmith picked up a bench, positioning it under the bottom of the door. "With the right leverage and the proper application of strength, the door will lift free."

"What's your name?" Ivy cut in, throwing Jack a significant look. He looked over for the answer, reminded of his companion's "psychic" suggestion.

"Will Turner," responded Will Turner. Jack wasn't even pretending to be bored now.

"That will be short for William, I imagine. Good, strong name. No doubt named for your father, eh?"

"Yes," Will answered, hesitantly. His gaze flicked back and forth between the two pirates, wondering where they were going with this.

"Mmmhmm. Well, Mr. Turner, I've changed me mind. If you spring us from this cell, I swear on pain of death Ivy and I will take you to the Black Pearl and your bonny lass. Do we have an accord?" Jack asked. Ivy smiled, thrilled to be included. The bit about "on pain of death" didn't bother her at all.

Will shook Jack's hand through the bars. "Agreed," he said, then beckoned for his unseen friend. The grey-eyed girl's jaw literally dropped as Ted Lupin nearly skipped down the stairs.

"Ted!" she nearly screamed. They both ran to the bars and grabbed each other's hands. Neither of them had quite realized how worried they were about the other. After a moment, Ivy noticed Jack watching them with a faintly amused look, and Will examining the pair, trying to figure out what was going on. At the same time, Ted realized how much they resembled Will and Elizabeth in Dead Man's Chest. They both let go at the same instant.

"Now, if you lovebirds are finished, what do you say to getting us out of here?" asked Jack, smirking.

Ivy's face promptly turned hot pink, the darkest it ever got. "I- we aren't lovebirds!" she complained. Ted was staring at her as though she'd just announced her intention to run for president. This outburst- any outburst, in fact- was decidedly out of character for Ivy. The werewolf shook his head in a sort of disbelieving way, and set to helping Will get the cell open.

"Hurry," the blacksmith urged, as Jack and Ivy scrambled out, "someone will have heard that."

"Not without my effects," said Jack, plucking said effects off the convenient hooks in the wall. Ted was still staring at his friend, a bewildered expression set on his face, his head cocked to one side. This had not escaped Ivy's notice. She trotted over to him and waved one hand in front of his face.

"Earth to Ted," she half-sang, her smile a thousand times too bright for the regular Ivy. Ted felt something this strange didn't deserve a reply. He merely turned and meekly followed Will and Jack up out of the jail, an unnaturally perky Ivy at his tail.

**Right-o. Reviews are grand. By the way, nobody's ever answered the poll from an earlier chapter about their favorite character of the six. Please do. **


	10. Madness and Brilliance

**Happy Birthday, Schmergo! Have an update! Yeah, I'm back. Finally. Blame my teachers for me being gone. Anyway, this chapter is complete rubbish, and even heavy editing couldn't save it, but since I don't want to rewrite it, and I want to get through this part, here it is. Ick.**

**Disclaimer: I did not purchase PotC while I was away. Sorry.**

"We're going to steal a ship? That ship?" asked Will in disbelief.

"Commandeer," corrected Jack, "we're going to commandeer that ship." He motioned toward the Dauntless, which was floating peacefully in the bay.

"Nautical term," added Ivy, helpfully. Ted grinned, a wide wolfish smile. He'd managed to put the issue of Ivy's unusual behavior at the back of his mind for the time being, but it was really a pleasant change to see her willingly adding things to a conversation, and showing some enthusiasm. That this enthusiasm was about stealing a Navy ship and traveling with a crew of pirates to the self-proclaimed island of death didn't matter. Ted would protect her, just like he always had.

"One question about your business, boy, or there's no going. This girl: how far are you willing to go for her?" Jack asked, seriously.

"I'd die for her," answered Will, not batting an eye. Jack looked relieved.

"Oh, good!" Jack exclaimed, "No worries, then." He turned to look at Ted and Ivy.

"We'd rather not die, if that's all right," Ted replied. Ivy surprised him by once again adding her two cents. This new Ivy would take some getting used to.

"Although, we know there's a risk." Jack nodded.

"Fair enough. I suppose being psychic ups your chances of staying alive?"

Ted's eyebrows flew up. Apparently, she'd need a lot of getting used to.

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A few minutes later, walking on the ocean floor and breathing the air trapped in the top of a canoe, Will grumbled, "This is either madness or brilliance."

"Brilliance if it works, madness if it doesn't," explained Ted, shaking the water out of his sandy hair in a manner very similar to that of a wet dog. The conditions were a bit cramped with four people underneath a single canoe, so Jack and Will were both hit in the face with wet hair. Ivy, at the back of the line, was spared. Since she was used to the effects of lycanthropy on her friend, Ivy hardly noticed, but Will and Jack looked at the boy strangely.

"It's remarkable how often those two traits coincide," Jack muttered. Apparently, he liked that line enough to try and stuff it in when it was no longer necessary. This made Ted chuckle, softly. Both he and Ivy tended to notice things that others passed over, but Ted's mind jumped from thought to thought unpredictably, making strange connections that other people missed. Ivy, however, didn't see anything that wasn't rooted strictly in the situation at the moment. She was never able to draw anything she hadn't seen before, while Ted routinely invented things in his mind. As the werewolf liked to put it, his mind worked like a poem, hers an essay.

"Oops," remarked Ted, sheepishly, "I stepped in a lobster trap."

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Jordan and a large number of the Royal Navy were on the Dauntless, preparing her for chase. To avoid having to admit he had no clue how to ready the sails, or whatever it was they were doing, he had joined Gillette in taking the management side of the task. Jordan, who could easily make complaining an art form, took on the job with gusto.

"Check the holds again; make sure we have a sufficient supply of… erm… cannonballs!" he told one group, who scampered away like the obedient and brainless little pawns they were. If anyone thought Jordan's orders were a bit vague, they didn't speak up. Jordan couldn't figure out whether it was because he was higher in rank than they were, or whether it was just his commanding personality and clear genius. Although in truth, it was probably closer to the first option, Jordan chose to go with the second. He was discovering that he was a natural at making random combinations of nautical commands from movies and things he'd heard Ivy talk about sound valid and important, even when they were definitely not. "Clear off the anchor!"

Suddenly, the ship went silent. Four figures stood on the deck, three of them brandishing swords with varying levels of competency, and the fourth with a pistol.

"Everyone stay calm! We are taking over the ship," the one with the gun announced. Another look showed Jordan that it was none other than Johnny Depp. Jack Sparrow, the boy corrected himself. The one who looked like he actually knew what he was doing with the sword was clearly Will Turner, but the other two… Jordan stared at Ted and Ivy, who hadn't seen him yet, and who were holding up their own blades rather nervously.

"Aye! Avast!" added Will, in all seriousness. Jordan didn't join the rest of the crew in laughing. He was still trying to figure this out. Jack turned around and glared at the blacksmith, and Ted grinned. Jordan decided not to let his friends know he was here. Jack and Will were both in the sequel, so it was assumed they survived. He hoped Ivy and Ted would be safe as an extension of that. It was Haley he had to worry about.

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"This ship cannot be crewed by three men. You'll never make it out of the bay," laughed Gillette. Ted looked at Ivy in as highly exaggerated a way as he could. She didn't seem to care about being left out of the lieutenant's head count, but that was typical Ivy. No matter how many times she was proved wrong, she expected people to ignore or dislike her.

"Son, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow," said Jack, stepping forward and holding his pistol against Gillette's nose. "Savvy?"

The crew loaded themselves into a rowboat and set off, not particularly thrilled, as Ivy and Jack scampered off to disable the rudder chain. Ted would not have been much help, since all he knew was that it somehow prevented anyone from steering the ship. He and Will stood on the deck of the Dauntless, awkwardly looking in random directions.

"So," the werewolf commented, finally, "here we are, two law-abiding citizens joining a pirate in stealing a ship of the Royal Navy. This was not how I planned to spend my day." Will laughed nervously, but his eyes were on the Interceptor.

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To Jordan's immense surprise, Jack, Will, Ted, and Ivy actually managed to take the Dauntless. Now, he and the rest of the sailors were stuck trying to get the commodore's attention.

"Sir, they've taken the Dauntless!" screamed Gillette, whose voice was surprisingly loud. "They've taken the ship! Sparrow and Turner and Baggins and… "There was a pause as he tried to remember Ted's name. He failed and so went on without it. "They've taken the Dauntless!"

Jordan sighed, staring at the approaching vessel. In the movie, didn't Jack get thrown in jail? Or had that already happened? He shook his head and helped Gillette scream.

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Ivy smiled slightly. She and the other three were busy throwing ropes about in a way that suggested they actually planned to do something with this ship, but she had just paused and glanced over at the Interceptor.

"Those are without a doubt the worst pirates I've ever seen," she muttered. Ted chuckled, and Jack treated them both to a dead fish look.

"What?" he asked.

"Just something Norrington said," explained Ivy. The pirate raised an eyebrow, but decided it was just her psychic abilities.

"Well, let's prove him wrong, then, eh?"

"Here they come," warned Will, striding over. Jack motioned with his head to hide behind a large crate. They did. It smelled like rotten eggs. By the time Norrington and his men swung over to the Dauntless, they were all more than ready to get out of there. Jack and Will both grabbed the used ropes and easily moved to the other ship, but Ted glanced at Ivy, who was staring at the rope in her hands like it had just sprouted feet. The tall boy plucked the rope from her hands, wrapped one arm around her, and swung over to the Interceptor.

"Thanks," mumbled Ivy, then kicked over the boards connecting the two ships.

"Quickly, men! Back to the Interceptor!" screamed Norrington a second later, once he noticed the four of them weren't where they were supposed to be. A few soldiers tried to follow his command, but fell into the icy water of the bay.

"Thank you, Commodore, for getting ready to make way," hollered Jack. "We'd have had a hard time of it by ourselves!" The new crew of the Interceptor grinned, and, with the wind at quarter astern, made their way into the open ocean.

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"Abandon ship!" yelled Gillette, as the larger vessel plowed toward their rowboat. Jordan paled. Would now be a good time to admit he couldn't swim very well? Wisely, instead of bringing this up, he chose to dive into the waves, scrambling to put as much distance between himself and the massive ship as possible. It passed directly above him, disturbing the water, and sending Jordan tumbling. He longed for air from a breath he'd forgotten to take.

The bottom of the ship, barnacle-encrusted and deadly, completely blocked the sun. Jordan didn't know which way was up and he'd lost all sense of time. He flailed helplessly in the churning ocean. Feels like I'm being keelhauled, he thought. Keelhauling, his oxygen-deprived brain uselessly informed him, a punishment used mostly by Navy captains in the 1700s, in which a man was passed under the ship by a rope. Usually fatal. This thought did nothing to cheer him up.

Right as he first gave up and let the harsh sea-water pour into his lungs, the Interceptor was gone. Summoning up more energy than he had, Jordan pulled himself to the surface, coughing up water. His throat burned as he inhaled deeply. Gillette paddled over to him, his wig miraculously still on.

"That was embarrassing," he sputtered. Jordan stared at him. Embarrassing? Terrifying, lethal, horrible, those would all work, but embarrassing?

"Highly," he agreed a moment later.

**Right, so… please review. **

**When I go to see the 3rd movie, I'm going to dress up as Scarlett and slap every fool dressed up as Jack. If you review, you won't suffer the same fate.**


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